Finally
by Sparklefarey16
Summary: Who doesn't love drunk!Ed? RoyEd
1. Chapter 1

Finally. After enough persistence and badgering, the bastard had let me come with him and the others to one of their after-work escapades. Mostly I just wanted to see if I could catch him doing something idiotic, so I could fight back with it if he threw anymore of those damned short jokes at me. Bastard. We sat at a booth in one of the local pubs.

"Lovely," I muttered.

"Well, you insisted on coming Fullmetal." The Colonel retorted next to me. My face flushed as the waitress came with our drinks, and she uneasily set the golden liquid in front of me.

"Are you sure you're eighteen?"

The Colonel cut in as my eyes darkened and my mouth curved into an unwanted scowl,  
"Absolutely positive, miss."

She blushed and walked away, and I relaxed slightly, though frustration still pulsed through me. I knew I was only 15, but dammit… I wished I looked older them my age instead of younger. Of course, my height didn't help at all.

"Fullmetal, you need to learn to relax; loosen up a little. You look tense."

Roy chuckled as I growled, and uncertainly took a sip of the alcohol. It flowed easily down my throat. I took a larger sip and finished the beverage in a few gulps, quickly ordering another.

"Look out Colonel; we might have a future alcoholic on our hands." Havoc laughed.

The waitress came with my sixth beer and a tray of food. I sniffed as the aroma of seafood filled my nose and looked up at the Colonel questioningly.

"What's that?" The words formed with difficulty in my mouth.

"Shrimp," the Colonel smirked, "I _love_ shrimp."

I shot out of my seat, "Bastard!" I spat as I stumbled to the door.

The cold air stung at my face and I lowered myself onto the bar steps. Why was I so embarrassed? I remembered the Colonel's smug face… I blushed. I should be angry, shouldn't I? Wait, did I just blush? What the hell! Obviously the only points to those words were to upset me. It worked too. But he said… I, I just got worked up over nothing. Yeah. _Right. _

Light flooded out into the night and a rush of warm air came upon me as someone opened the bar door.

"Ed?"

_That voice._

It infatuated me.

And I had no idea why.

The Colonel plopped down next to me.

"You seem a little tipsy Edward, you okay?" he seemed genuinely… concerned.

"I'm fine, leave me alone!" I snapped, perhaps a bit too harshly.

"Hmm, feisty, are we?" A smile spread across Mustang's face. His infamous smirk.

"Bastard." I stood up and wobbled a bit. The alcohol was getting to me.

"Ed, you can't go home in this state, Al'll yell at me…" Mustang said sheepishly, "Let me help you." He grabbed my arm.

I pulled away, "I'm not one of your fucking dates! Gettoff me!" My voice slurred as my vision started to get hazy.

"Ed!"

I heard a sudden screech, a yelling horn, and saw blinding white light flash at me as I stumbled into the road.

"Damnit Fullmetal!" the Colonel yelled.

I blinked and gazed up at him.

The alcohol had fully taken over my body, and I felt a smile curl upon my lips.

"Yo, Colonel! When'd you get here?" I hiccupped.

"Fullmetal, you're stoned." The Colonel sighed.

He picked me up and gasped.

"God Ed, you're heavy for a-"

"I GOT TWO METAL LIMBS, WHAT'DYA EXPECT?!"

Obviously I still had enough in me for a comeback or two.

Mustang gently set me down in his car; seating himself in the driver's position. He must've let the driver off early… My mind was cloudy and heated as I climbed up the seat and pawed at Mustang.

"Quit it, I'm driving."

I kept at it, "But _Rooooooooooooy._" I whined.

"What?" He turned and glared at me with his dark, gleaming eyes.

"I... uhh.." I blushed, squirming in his bottomless eyes, forgetting all else as I fell into the deep, never-ending pits.

"Fullmetal, you're blushing!" Mustang chuckled, "What, you have a crush on me or something?"

At that, I turned towards the window, only so he wouldn't see my blush deepen.

"Shuddup Colonel Bastard..." I muttered, mustering up enough venom to lace the words with.

My face grew hot as my mind wandered off to tender dreams. I faded in and out of hearing and suddenly started giggling as we pulled up to Colonel Mustang's house.

"Edward, what are you giggling about?"

He opened the door and I sprawled out on the ground, deep in a fit of laughter.

"Ed, come on, get up."

He picked me up, and I clung onto his neck. My head swam with thoughts and vivid fantasies as I gradually stopped my giggling. The Colonel expertly held onto me with one hand and fumbled with his key with the other. I groaned, and clutched tighter around his neck. I think my body was starting to catch up to the alcohol by now.

As we entered the room, fuzzy hues of red, dark brown, gold and hints of blue met my eyes. Once more, blinding white light forced into my unwilling eyes.

"Turn it _off-_!" I screeched, voice cracking.

"Sorry, sorry, maybe a little fire would be better..." He soothed, cracking one of his smirks.

With a snap of his fingers, a gallant fire sprang to life in the rather big (and rather obnoxious) fireplace. A little too fitting for our smug Colonel. He set me gently down on the smoky leather couch.

"Showoff." I muttered, only causing his smirk to grow a little wider, as he disappeared through a doorway, only to return carrying two steaming mugs.

The smell of mint wafted around me. He held it towards me, implying for me to take it. I stuck my tongue out. Just the smell unsettled my stomach.

"Mmph!" My eyelids snapped open as Mustang closed his own lips around mine.

I sat there, dazed, as we kissed, lighting a fire inside me, burning my desire for this, this feeling ... this wonderful feeling ricocheting inside of me. He broke the kiss, leaving my lips still half-open. He then pursued to guide the drink somehow still encased in my hands to my mouth, pouring the liquid down my throat, and possibly burning my mouth in the process.

Damn that Colonel and his devious methods.

As the drinks were finished, I laid myself in his lap, and he tenderly stroked my hair. (He always did seem to have a thing for my hair...) I leaned into his touch. Damnit, I really just was a dog, wasn't I? I felt his hands start to roam, caressing my body, and I climbed up him, like a monkey would a tree, and pressed my lips into his. He parted his lips, prodding at mine, getting entry into my mouth. I loved his taste. It was just so... masculine. He had a faint tinge of scotch, but he was so smooth, so... delicious. It made me bubble up inside. My hands combed through his silky black hair, and my hips rubbed gently against his abs, sending friction to surge throughout my body. My mind was fading... He picked me up... I couldn't think straight... I felt a softer, more delicate and comfy surface beneath me... My clothes were stripped off... heated kisses traced down my neck... the room filled with my moans and cries... waves of pleasure subdued my body... I gently rocked to sleep, feeling warmth wrap itself around me, everlasting heat that would never cool down. An eternal Flame. I heard my own voice as my mouth formed unfamiliar words.

"I love you Roy Mustang."


	2. Chapter 2

Harsh sunlight cascaded through the windows, directly into my face.

"Damn."

I blinked furiously; the light was _not_ helping the pounding in my head, which kept beating like a drum.

"What the hell happened anyway?" I murmured to myself, struggling to regain my foggy memory. I laid back on the empty bed.

"Wait a sec…"

I shot back up; ignoring the light-headed feeling I got from doing so.

This wasn't my bed.

I gazed around the room.

It wasn't _mine_.

My memories rushed back into my empty head, and I gave a small yelp.

I… with the bastard Colonel… we…

I staggered out of the bed and gave a hurried guess as to which door was the bathroom. I threw myself to the toilet and vomited.

"I feel so… violated." I gasped into the toilet.

My mouth was dry and my voice harsh; my face sweaty and my boxers… wet. I turned to the sink and washed my face with cold, clear water. As I patted myself dry, my gaze wandered into the mirror. I looked the same as ever, but, but, there was something out of place. My whole face, no, my whole _body_ seemed to glow, my eyes shined, and I started to feel giddy because of it.

I stormed out of the bathroom, disgusted. What the hell was that about? I re-entered the bedroom and realized I was naked, save for a pair of red boxers.

… Which weren't even _mine_.

Damnit!

I searched the room, but luck was laughing at me today, and I couldn't seem to find my clothes.

"Damn bastard must of hid 'em." I growled, searching through his closet, before finally settling on a crimson colored shirt 5x too big for me. It reached my knees and the sleeves were a little past my elbows.

Sunlight was now fully filtered through the blindless windows. Mustang must have super-sensitive eyes to use the light as an alarm clock, because I sure didn't see one in the room. The room, speaking of which, was… nice. Figuring the bastard, it _had_ to be nice. Dark, mahogany wood, deep gold sheets, red and blue accents, and pictures. Lots of pictures. Looks like his "doting father" friend wasn't the only one into photography. I glanced around, spotting a lot of pictures of the team (I, being the delightfully _charming_ person I am, had scowled for all of them), a couple of an older woman who had the same striking eyes as Mustang himself, so she could only be his mother, and a single picture of myself.

I ambled over to face the picture. He (most likely Hughes though, probably put him up to it) must've followed me around that day. I was caught with a smile, a broad, wide, genuine smile. My eyes shined, rid of the darkness they normally harbored and I looked young; so young.

I snorted, "Why the hell does he have a picture of _me_?"

Of course, hope blossomed in my chest. But I couldn't count on it. I could never.

--

"Roy!" An insistent voice called after him, "Rooooy!!"

Roy Mustang did not run away from anything or anyone. He was merely walking very fast and trying to get away from a certain glasses-wearing Lieutenant Colonel. A hand caught his shoulder. Damnit.

"Roy!" Maes Hughes gasped, "Can't you hear me? Look, I've got a new album of Elysia!"

Roy spun around, trying best to hide any emotion showing on his face, "Look Hughes, I've got a lot of work to do, so if you'll excuse me. And if you even lift a finger to try and shove that photo album in my face, so help me, I will scorch both it and _you_."

Hughes stood there, motionless, and just as Roy was turning away, broke into an ear-splitting grin.

"Roy!! Why didn't you tell me?!"

The Flame turned back around to gape at his friend.

"Tell you what?"

"Who you're in love with, of course! She's got to be pretty, given _your_ reputation. Do I know her? What's her name if I don't? When are you-"

As earlier stated, Roy Mustang did not run away. In this case, he _sprinted_ away.

--

"Sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Is everything alright, sir?"

"Why would you ask such a question Lieutenant? Of course everything is alright."

"Don't make me pull out my gun, sir." She unpocketed her handarm.

A sigh came from behind the desk. "Let Hughes in then, Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir." Depositing her gun, she opened the door.

How did Maes figure that out, anyway? _He_ was supposed to be the one who was good at analyzing people! Roy let his head fall into his hands propped up on the desk.

"Oh Roy, it's part of my job description. MI, remember? I _have_ to be good at those kinds of things."

Roy looked up from his hands and cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm just that good Roy." Hughes winked, "Even if I weren't, I'm your best friend, so I should know if _something_ is troubling you."

"Maes…"

"Now tell me who the lucky lady is!"

Knowing there was no way of escaping, Colonel Mustang took a deep breath, looked his friend in the eye, and said, "If they ever heard you say that, you'd be dead before you knew it. They aren't a 'she' Maes. They're a 'he'."

--

"Umm… Win, yeah, I know, yeah, _yeah I am taking care of it_, Winry… WINRY! Lemme speak to Al!"

I sighed. Of course my brother _had_ to be in Resembol when _it_ happened, but it just couldn't be helped. Probably better anyway, because he would only get protective.

"Brother? Winry didn't throw a wrench into the phone and successfully knock you unconscious, did she?"

I sighed again, "No Al, but I kinda wish. Then this could all be some crazy ass dream."

"Uh-oh, Brother, tell me what happened."

And so I told, albeit a little reluctantly, I told. It started with a, "Well, me and Mustang kinda…" and trailed off from there, leaving it to the imagination. And ended with a squeak from the other end of the line and a choked up "I'm coming right home Brother!" And a dead line. Oh dear.

I rubbed my face with both hands. Goddamnit. At least today was Friday, and since I skipped going to that stuffy hole of an office today, I wouldn't have to face the bastard Colonel until Monday. Maybe I could even fake being sick to get a couple more days away from him…

What the fuck? Why am I so scared of seeing him?

_Because he fucked you. That could cause some problems._

I growled at the little, smug voice in my head.

Since when have I ever cared about complications like that?

_Since you fell in love with him. Obviously._

Great. Just great. Just because I- What?

_You love him. God, for someone who's supposed to be _smart_ you're pretty stupid._

I was speechless. Forgetting the nagging voice in my head, I went out for a walk.

God, I needed a drink.

--

Roy Mustang sat at one of the local bars, close to the base, and filled with familiar blue uniforms. He sat with his head resting on a propped up hand and his other hand closed around an empty shot glass that used to be filled with whiskey.

God, he needed another drink.

--

I didn't know where I was going. Really, I had no clue. I just started walking. When I looked around, I was near HQ. It didn't register in my mind that maybe I _wanted_ to come here, just that my feet were taking me to the only bar I knew. The one I went to just the other night ago. _The night I got drunk and had sex with Roy Mustang._ Really, I just pushed the door open and shoved my way past other military officers. Sitting next to an unknown man at the bar, I signaled a weary-looking bartender. Before he could even ask my age, the man next to me spoke.

"He's with me."


End file.
